


Marked

by classicearthworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Mark (Harry Potter), Incantation, Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26699110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classicearthworm/pseuds/classicearthworm
Summary: Lucius was given a very specific mission by the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, he failed to complete this mission and now someone must face the consequences.
Kudos: 4





	Marked

Lucius looked around at the drenched woods. He couldn’t be close to the Manor - it hadn’t rained there in days. Where was he? Why was he here? All he remembered was Bellatrix forcing him to tell her about his mission when she apparated them here. Her cackle still echoed in his ears.

_ Wait, where was she? _ His eyes scanned through the trees looking for her - looking for life. But he was completely alone. He should’ve seen this coming. After all, her hatred for mudbloods was only overshadowed by that for bloodtraitors. The shrubs rustled wildly and Lucius was seriously considering just apparating to...to the  _ Weasel’s _ dwelling rather than staying here, but he didn’t dare move - not even when Nagini slid out from under it. She looked eerily similar to Voldemort with the afternoon sun struggling to peek through the lush trees. Voldemort floated closer soon after. Of course, Voldemort had come for a progress update: if it didn’t include his desired outcome - death - it was over for whoever brought him the news. Lucius quickly wiped his hands on his robes. He had done many things for the dark lord, but this...this was asking too much. 

“My lord, I cannot,” the scrawny man quickly said, “The bloodtraitors,” he murmured, “they are my family.” He knew it was a fruitless endeavour to hope for compassion and yet he couldn’t stop himself from doing just that. Malfoy was ready to give his crafted excuses when the sneer on Voldemort’s lips silenced him. 

“You have yet to show your allegiance after I had fallen, Malfoy. Prove to me that I can trust you.” The sneer widened with glee at the prospect of violence. Voldemort valued loyal subjects, but he enjoyed playing with the reluctant ones even more. 

“My lord,” He swallowed quickly, “there is no doubt you can trust me.” The slight inflection at the end of his sentence did not go unnoticed. Voldemort raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. It was with this that Lucius realised he broke his most important vow - never show your weakness to the dark lord. 

“Really?” he drawled. “I don’t suppose you meant to give away the relic I bestowed in your trust before I left?” The threat in Voldemort’s voice made Nagini slither closer to Lucius, crunching the brown leaves under her and giving him a reason to avoid Voldemort’s gaze. Before Lucius could register the greedy readiness in Nagini’s eyes, Voldemort lifted his finger just enough that it made Nagini pause. “Not yet,” he breathed before turning back to Lucius. “Because, of course, you searched for me in those eleven years, didn’t you?” A smirk spread across his face, yet his eyes narrowed. “You would never abandon me.” His tone wasn’t sarcastic. It was closer to a suppressed anger which frightened Malfoy even more. 

“My lord...you had hidden yourself well and I looked, but...” Lucius couldn’t finish the sentence. Within seconds Voldemort had whipped out his wand and reduced the distance between them to mere centimetres. The thin white wood pressed coldly against Malfoy’s neck. A vein was throbbing close to its tip, making Voldemort smile: his plan was working. 

“Don’t lie to me.” The whisper was surprisingly calm for the betrayal Malfoy knew Voldemort felt. “Now go do as I  _ said _ .” He hissed out the last word indicating he wouldn’t get a third chance. Malfoy swallowed and his adam’s apple bumped against the wand. His eyes widened as he realised just how close to death he was. Regardless of how often it happened, it terrified him every single time. It was Voldemort’s favourite thing - reminding people just how fatally mortal they were. Malfoy wanted to retreat, but he wasn’t prepared to test his mortality just yet. 

“It was always my plan to complete my mission, my lord, but I…” he sighed, “Narcissa would never…”

“How dare you disobey me!” He had never heard Voldemort’s whispery voice be this loud. Malfoy didn’t even cower away. He knew what was coming and that fighting would only prolong the healing period. Yet the searing pain never came and when he looked to Voldemort for answers, he seemed suspiciously calm. “Oh no, that doesn’t seem to be working.” The sneer returned to his face. “You’re forcing me to take a more,” he paused to take a breath, “drastic measure.” He didn’t seem forced. In fact, he looked quite happy to resort to a ‘drastic measure’. His tall frame was towering over Lucius - blocking the little bit of light that had made it through the trees. “I happen to know that Narcissa would be able to forgive you for that,” Voldemort lowered his gaze to Lucius. “But not for this.” On his last word, he pressed his wand to the dark mark embedded on Malfoy’s left forearm, but the sharp ache wasn’t there. At first he was relieved. But that was before he realised where the pain had gone and what Voldemort meant. 

“You see...” Voldemort said, the s sounding menacingly similar to a hiss, “I’ve been exploring blood magic - transferring a curse to a relative. Blood is a powerful thing. It binds people. That’s why we need to keep it pure!” His voice rose higher as the intensity reached a climax in his last sentence. He cleared his throat before continuing, “Blood can be traced to parents, siblings and...” he paused for a moment and a malicious grin decorated his face, “children. Now, where’s yours currently?” Lucius stiffened, but that did nothing to stop the dark lord from racking his brain. “Aaah, of course, he’s on the Hogwarts’ Express.” Even though he smiled, he spat out the last two words - distaste etched on his features. Lucius felt the blood drain from his face because even though he knew Voldemort was merciless, he definitely couldn’t be this powerful. Surely he couldn’t hex someone over such a great distance! “Legilimens,” he whispered the word not to Malfoy, but rather at his wand. But something felt wrong. He put the emphasis too late. He had used this spell successfully many times - he knew how to say it. It frightened Lucius even more that he had said the word at all - the dark lord was proficient at nonverbal magic! Even though the spell wasn’t aimed at him or even said correctly, Lucius prepared to have his mind infiltrated yet again. But, of course, that did not happen. 

He opened his eyes and it was as if they had apparated elsewhere. Confusion clouded his mind: how had they apparated that quickly? How had he not realised? What was the meaning of the spell? Yet the only answer he got was what was in front of him: they were in a small corridor, tables and chairs lining the walls. Huge windows, overlooking an empty platform, were placed above every table. He reached out his hand to brush it along the closest table, but instead he felt the rough bark of the tree he had been standing next to only moments earlier. He spun around, but he was still on the train, the tree bark felt coarse against his fingers. His brow furrowed as he turned to walk down the corridor, but it was only then that he became aware of the cold fingers wrapped around his wrist. “This way,” he hissed.

“Where are we?” There was an urgency in the words that Malfoy wished he didn’t feel, but when the cool fingers tightened their grasp he reluctantly followed him. Malfoy tried one last time for an answer. “How,” he muttered the word - not truly asking for he didn’t actually have hope of getting an answer, but trying anyway. But Malfoy didn’t know that the truth was scarier than not having known at all. 

“Legilimens.” This time it was pronounced perfectly. He let the word fill the space for a moment before continuing, granting Malfoy the chance to figure it out for himself. “Your horrendous pronunciation of Morsmordre at the Quidditch World Cup gave me the idea,” he snickered as Lucius turned bright pink, “Pettigrew had to save you! That imbecile only has one hand!” Voldemort laughed, relishing in Malfoy’s shame before gathering himself, “Through tweaking the pronunciation ever so slightly a different spell is cast.” His smile grew. He was quite proud of his discovery and intended to use it on Harry Potter himself.

Lucius stared in disbelief as the dark lord started walking again, tugging on his arm. Malfoy quickly fell into step. If this could be done with Legilimens, what were the possibilities with the three Unforgivables! The thought sent a chill running down his spine. Voldemort pushed on the door to the next carriage and it flew open. Inside a blond boy was sitting quietly - an open book discarded before him, his eyes drifting around the room absently. When his eyes landed on Lucius and the dark lord, he didn’t even pause for a split second. It was as if he stared right through them. He continued his observation undisturbed. Voldemort snickered when Lucius tried to reach out to his son and was met with nothing in return - not even a fleeting glance. 

Voldemort whispered the words into Lucius’s ear, emphasising every syllable, “You couldn’t kill the bloodtraitors and instead betrayed your own blood.” Instantly Draco fell to the floor clutching his left forearm. Voldemort pressed the wand deeper into Lucius’s skin and an agonizing scream escaped from Draco’s throat. Lucius jumped forward, but Voldemort’s grip had tightened, pulling him back. “Look what you’ve done.” With those words, it was as if Voldemort had compelled him. He stood silently watching his son scream as a red fire blazed upon his left forearm snaking into the dark mark. He knew this ritual much too well. He’d seen countless of his friends receive it and when the time was right, he too received the ultimate welcome from Voldemort. But what he once thought was a smile of satisfaction, he now knows is one of utter pleasure decorating Voldemort’s face.

Draco rolled around trying to find relief from the scorching pain radiating from his left forearm. It felt like the bone was escaping the clutches of his body and exploding outwards. He tried to stop screaming - he really did, after all, he was taught never to show weakness. But he couldn’t stop. He had never felt pain like this - not even when Bellatrix used the Cruciatus curse - hers was the worst. Tears were streaming down his face burning a path down his cheeks. He clutched his arm trying to smother the flames, but it only rose higher, engulfing his entire forearm in a sea of red. He was squirming under the pain with his throat raw from screaming trying to alleviate some of the torture he was enduring, but nothing seemed to help. The tears burning his face turned bright red as it became part of the fire. 

Malfoy knew that the worst was yet to come. He was yanking at the dark lord’s hand. “Pl…” he tried, but he couldn’t quite speak. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Please, stop!” But the wand only dug deeper into his skin. “Please! I’ll do it...I’ll do anything you ask.” The defeat was evident in his voice as he never took his eyes off the blond boy thrashing around on the floor. Draco’s usually immaculate hair was drenched in sweat and stuck to his forehead. “Please, just stop.” But he was begging for mercy from a merciless being. 

“Yes, you will.” The dark lord got what he wanted, yet he did not stop. For the first time Lucius looked away from Draco. 

“Stop!” Lucius yelled the words at Voldemort’s face. Tears stained his cheeks. He never wanted this for Draco. “I gave you what you wanted.” He paused for a brief moment. His voice was softer now, pleading, “Stop, please don't do this.” 

“The spell is almost done. It would be foolish not to complete it,” he said matter-of-factly. The lack of emotion in his voice gave Lucius the motivation to use the killing curse effectively, but he knew that Voldemort would undoubtedly win and then Draco would suffer a worse fate.

Draco’s screams reached a crescendo as the bone finally burst through his skin winding itself into a skull with a snake protruding from within. It lay on his skin for a few seconds longer before vanishing beneath it. Lucius looked upon his son as Draco gave one last jerk, a heart-wrenching scream thundering through the dark corridors of the train before he lay unmoving on the floor. Watery tears were streaming down his face as he held his arm, a disgusted look on his face. 

“If Andromeda and her filthy mudblood husband aren’t dead by tomorrow morning, Draco will get his first mission.” And with that the scene around him faded back to the drenched woods. It took him a few moments to realise that Voldemort was no longer clasping his arm and that Nagini had also disappeared. With a swift, “Sorry, Narcissa,” he apparated out of there. 

Ted’s body was discovered only days later. 


End file.
